Keep Your Head Down
by Ranger-Corpses
Summary: He broke down crying, unable to hold back. Somewhere along the way he heard himself sobbing, "please don't tell anyone, they'll kill me, they'll kill me." Jefferson had the ultimate piece of information for blackmail, and Hamilton knew it. He'd do anything to keep word of this off the streets, away from everyone's ears. Rated T for mostly-non-graphic slavery and torture.
1. Chapter 1

**I own absolutely nothing, everything here belongs to the one, the only, Lin-Manuel Miranda!**

* * *

Alexander hurried along to the Cabinet meeting, hoping to get there early so as to not draw too much attention to himself. Of course, he knew that once he got into the whatever topic was chosen for this particular meeting all thoughts of remaining inconspicuous would fade, but it never hurt to try to keep your head down.

He slipped into the room, taking a seat off to the right side of the room, but as close to the doorway out as possible, a habit he'd picked up over the years.

As various people filed into the room, he fiddled with the hem of his coat - this one green.

Just fifteen minutes into the debate and Hamilton was already spitting fire.

"No, slaves are not- they're _real human beings_ with feelings, you can't just-" Alexander broke off with a frustrated sigh, unable to find the right words.

"It's perfectly acceptable to have-" Jefferson was cut off by his opponent's scream of rage.

"No, it's not justified- you don't pay them- you don't treat them right," Alexander stopped himself, heart racing.

"Hamilton, it's quite normal-"

"No!" he screeched. Both people's faces were dark with rage, Hamilton's pale skin growing red and flushed.

"Hamilton," Jefferson snapped, but was interrupted once again.

"No, slaves are not okay to have! In the least give them acceptable bedding and food and medical care, wages, manageable work hours, days off for when they're sick-"

"I didn't realize you made it a hobby of yours to study the conditions of slaves," Jefferson drawled.

Hamilton left.

Just like that, up and left, green tailcoat swing around him as he turned out his heel and stalked out of the room, red in the face with hatred. Jefferson's eyebrows rose a fraction, surprised at the fact that Hamilton had left the room rather than launch himself at him.

* * *

Once Alexander was out of that room, out of sight of _Jefferson,_ some of the tension in his shoulders left him. Once he got back to his office (which was currently quicker to get to than his small house) he slumped at his desk, head rolling back on the chair-back.

He raked his fingers through his long hair, resisting the urge to just tug at it until it was ripped from his head and scream, scream until his vocal cords ripped.

His hands dropped onto his lap and he sat there, looking at them for a long time. Soon though, his hand creeped up the underside of his shirt to his back, tracing the scars left there, proof of his past.

 _*Flashback*_

" _Faster, you need to work_ faster," _Indow growled, bring his arm down hard, and with it, the whip. Alexander cried out, his small frame buckling under the weight with which it was brought down upon him, with the pain, with the exhaustion, and with the_ fury _he felt._

 _He looked desperately out to the others, his equals,_ the other slaves, _hoping against hope that one of them would snap and come to his rescue._

 _No one did. He'd expected that though. Keep your head down and you survive a little longer._

 _The whip was brought down three more times before he was finally - finally - allowed to crawl back to the shed. Everyone slept here, and it reeked of blood and sweat._

 _He wondered when they would next be allowed to eat. He knew that Indow was always unpredictable with the rations._

 _Maybe someday he could escape, find a better life. He could stop slavery, stop all this pain and suffering and death._

 _*End flashback*_

Alexander ripped his hand back out, trembling a little from the unexpected memory. Those days would always haunt him. The scars on his back were a promise that he'd never be allowed to forget, to leave the past behind him.

* * *

That night Hamilton slept only fitfully, unable to catch more than a few minutes of sleep at a time. When he woke up, it felt as if he'd rubbed handfuls of sand into his eyes and wished he'd never laid down at all.

 _Why can't Jefferson just see what I'm trying to say here?_

He got up out of his bed and dressed himself.

 _It should be illegal to have slaves._

He gave a half-hearted attempt to tame his hair a bit before going to the kitchen/dining room/sitting room.

 _No one should have to suffer through what I did._

He ate a quick breakfast of bread, butter and jam before heading out of the house to work once again.

* * *

' _Keep your head down,'_ Alexander thought to himself as he entered the meeting just a few seconds late. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he sat down.

"Anyways, because we didn't get much done at yesterday's meeting, I've decided that we should continue it. I'd like the Cabinet to come to a decision about where America should stand on slavery," Washington decreed.

 _That cursed, ugly word._

"Jefferson, why don't you start," Washington continued.

"Slavery is a good thing, it helps the South prosper which gives the North the materials - particularly cotton - it needs to put paychecks in the pockets of the workers, which, in turn, allows all of America to grow," Thomas stated. Alexander clenched his fists, growing more and more peeved at every word that came out of _Thomas fucking Jefferson's_ mouth.

"Slavery is not a _good thing,_ it is, in fact, _pure evil."_ Hamilton's words were so heavily laced with hatred and contempt that even Jefferson took a double take. "Every day those _people_ are suffering from _starvation, dehydration, and illness_ just because they're from a certain area of the world or their skin color is different.

"Whipped for- for not being fast enough on a job or for not making their _masters'_ food quite right, or for breaking something - even if on accident." his breath was picking up again and he could feel himself going lightheaded from the adrenaline coursing through him.

"Even if those people do sustain America, _slavery must go,"_ It was only now that Hamilton realized that he'd started crying in fury and frustration.

He panicked and fled from the room, heart racing, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Nearly half an hour later, Thomas came into Hamilton's office, guessing correctly that that was where he'd escaped to.

All it took was six words to bring Hamilton's life crashing down around him.

* * *

"Are you speaking from personal experience?"

* * *

' _He knows, he knows, he knows, he knows, I can't go back, I can't ever go back, I can't possibly go back.'_

Hamilton's thoughts swirled around him, eyes widening in fear at Thomas' words.

' _Keep your head down, that's all you had to do!'_

"What do you mean?" Hamilton choked out. Dammit, he'd been going for an unconcerned tone of voice. Not terrified.

' _They'll come back and drag me back to that hellhole-'_

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Surely that couldn't've just been you overreacting to a debate?"

' _I wouldn't survive a single year there, I'd die in the worst way possible-'_

"I am passionate."

' _Thomas just has to tell one person and I'll be back there-'_

"No one can be that passionate."

' _The word will spread, they'll beat me senseless-'_

Hamilton was at a loss for words.

' _I'm a runaway, they'll kill me-'_

Jefferson's face when Hamilton didn't answer tore him apart.

' _Even if I somehow survive, I'll get all the worst jobs, I'll be worked to the death-'_

He broke down crying, unable to hold back. Somewhere along the way he heard himself sobbing, "please don't tell anyone, they'll kill me, they'll kill me."

Jefferson had the ultimate piece of information for blackmail, and Hamilton knew it. He'd do anything to keep word of this off the streets, away from everyone's ears.

"They'll kill me if they find out, they'll kill me, kill me," Hamilton repeated. He hiccuped, and he knew he was hyperventilating.

He grew light-headed and dizzy, still saying the same words over and over.

"They'll kill me if they know."

* * *

The first thing Hamilton realized was that he had no shirt on. The second was that he was on his back, his preferred sleeping position.

He pushed himself up with his arms, eyes flying open in panic.

Jefferson's face was the first thing he saw.

 _Thomas fucking Jefferson._

He twisted himself around so that his back faced away from Jefferson. Blind fear overcame him as he realized that Thomas would've had plenty of time to see the scars in the time that he was unconscious. He scrabbled for the blanket that was covering his legs, pulling it up over the exposed skin.

"I didn't realize how bad the discipline is," Thomas whispered, his eyes dropping from Hamilton's terrified face.

"I was just told that their bad behavior was being taken care of, but I didn't know that it was that bad," Jefferson continued quietly. "I didn't think that they were so _cruel."_

"Please don't tell anyone," Hamilton said, whispering in tones even quieter than Jefferson's. " _They'll kill me if they know I escaped."_

He mouthed the last sentence rather than say it aloud.

Hamilton was clutching the blanket so tightly that his knuckles turned white, unable to take in a word Jefferson was saying.

"I won't."

Hamilton didn't know what he should feel. He was more terrified than relieved. Not hearing what Thomas had been saying previously, he thought that he would hold that over him, blackmailing him with his past.

 _Should've kept your fucking head down._

"They'd kill me if they knew I escaped," Alexander mouthed again, despair welling up inside him.

"I know," Thomas whispered, head bowed down.

"When I told you what I knew, how I'd guessed- _that,_ I thought you'd act surprised, curious as to how I knew - how I'd found out, and we could joke about it. I didn't know how bad it was. I didn't know it'd been so _bad_ for you," Thomas said.

"I had it better than the others," Alexander said, surprising even himself at his words. "I'd been born into it - my mother had been a slave before me - and I was taught to keep my head down, to stay quiet, to follow orders and say thank you when they gave us our portions, even if they were small, to be perfect. The only times I ever got punished was when I dropped a plate or bowl, or when I wasn't fast enough." Now that he'd started, it came spilling out, as if keeping it hidden for so long had made it harder to make it remain secret.

"The others, especially the new ones, were headstrong and thought they could run away. They were nearly always caught, and were beaten _so badly._ Once I nearly ran out and stopped him, but I never did. I was too _cowardly._

"When I ran, I nearly died _so many times._ They sent hunting dogs after me. If they'd've caught me I'd surely have a mangled limb, for I once saw their snapping jaws and sharp teeth from the top of a pine tree.

"I had to move only at night, to try to stay awake throughout the day so I wouldn't be caught. I couldn't leave marks of my presence. I remember always being so very hungry.

"Then I finally made it to the North, where slavery isn't as popular, where I could make a name for myself. Those first few years I was _terrified_ that they'd find me, that I'd be forced to go back. I'd always wake up screaming, much to the distaste of the person I'd been roommates with. I was _so scared_ that my escaping had just been a dream, that'd I'd wake up back there.

"Even now, sometimes I worry about them suddenly remembering that they'd had someone logged under the name of 'Alexander,' and that they're come and drag me back there."

Thomas sat in silence for the duration of Alex's terrible past, resentment for whomever had scarred him this badly growing with every passing word.

"They'll never get you now," Jefferson whispered. He felt that he should hold Alexander close to him, to sooth him with comforting words, but kept his hands to himself. "If they come I'll protect you from them, I'll keep you safe. You're never going back there again."

Hamilton slumped down into the too-soft pillows, eyes drooping shut in exhaustion.

* * *

 _They ripped his shirt off, clasping chains to his ankles and wrists so he couldn't move, so he couldn't run, so he couldn't escape again. They raised the whip and brought it down again and again, long after Alexander's cries turned hoarse, long after he'd fallen to the ground. There was no escaping the torment, the pain, the suffering. If only death could hurry up, he'd be satisfied._

 _But he could only wish for something as sweet as death, for he was soon jerked upright and thrown into the shed again, clothed in torn, thin rags. They laughed at how he fell limply to the ground as soon as he hit it, laughed at how he thought he could escape them. A few more lashes and they left, a lock turning. Alexander hadn't the strength to get up, to even attempt to escape, and lay on the floor, shivering and back aflame._

"Shhh, it's alright, you're ok," a voice crooned.

Alex shot upright, heart pounding, tears streaking his face. He jerked his head to the side and saw Jefferson, an expression of the utmost care and concern gracing his face.

"They can't get you anymore," Thomas assured Alexander, holding him close, earlier restraints of doing so long gone.

They stayed together like that until Alexander had calmed down enough to fall back asleep. Jefferson sent a messenger to Washington telling him that they'd be absent for a while and returned to his bed in the hallway, where he'd lain Alex that night he'd started hyperventilating.

He crawled in beside Alexander, holding him close, praying that he wouldn't have another nightmare.

When Alex next awoke, he was still curled up in Thomas' arms, a warm haven surrounding him. The blankets were soft and silky and Thomas' breathing was smooth and steady. He'd fallen asleep at some point in time, tired to the bone after a fitful night of occasionally dozing off in the hard chair.

Alexander shifted so that he was closer to Thomas and the warmth he radiated and fell into a dreamless sleep once more.

* * *

The two soon grew used to sleeping in each other's warm embrace. It wasn't anything sexual, Alexander simply slept better when in Thomas' arms.

Sometimes Alex would panic for a moment, worry that Thomas was just baiting him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to blackmail him until he remembered the devotion and determination with which Thomas had spoken when he'd declared that he would protect Alex from them.

Then the tightness in his chest would loosen and breathing would become easy again, and he could rest easy once more.

Congress meetings became easier for everyone now that the two were friends and would no longer scream at each other. When they disagreed they'd talk it out in a civil manner.

Just a week into this, Washington called them both into his office.

"I've noticed a definite change in both of your behaviors," he said.

"Would you prefer us go back to the way it was before?" Thomas quired. Alex's heart skipped a beat at that. Could he be implying that he was a burden?

"Oh, no, you work much better now, I was simply wondering _why."_

Alex forced himself to keep looking forwards, to not cast a pleading look Thomas' way to _not tell him about it._ He had to trust that his new friend wouldn't betray him like this.

"It matters not why, but rather that we have improved greatly upon past performances," Thomas said carefully. Alex had to admit that it was cute how much more complicated his speech became when he wanted to phrase it just so.

"Well, either way, keep up the good work," Washington said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You may go back to your work."

"Thank you sir," Thomas and Alex chorused before leaving the room.

No sooner had they gotten ten steps, Alex burst out, "thank you."

"For what?" Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side.

"For not telling him about, _you know."_

"I couldn't tell him that, that's for you to decide to share," Thomas said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sometimes I can't help but remember that the Thomas from before wouldn't have hesitated to tell the world about this, about how he would've seen it as just another move in that huge game of chess we used to be tangled in," Alex whispered.

"Alex," Thomas said, striding in front of him and placing his hands on Alex's shoulders, "I would never betray you like that, not now that I know how bad it is."

* * *

Over the next few months, Alex and Thomas' friendship grew stronger, and it was no longer out of concern that Thomas kept by Alexander's side. It was because he truly enjoyed the other man's presence. He liked the witty banter, his dry sense of humor.

It wasn't long after that that their relationship progressed past just friendship, and soon they were both head-over-heels for the other, neither of them brave enough to confess his feelings to the other.

Alexander admired Thomas in glances shot his way and vise-versa. The highlight of their day was the end, when they would get to hold each other in Thomas' ridiculously placed bed. Alex didn't admit that he no longer needed to be embraced to keep the nightmares at bay.

And of course, it was only a matter of time before Thomas dragged Alex into the market in search of more clothes for him.

* * *

"I seriously don't need any more than I already have," Alex muttered, glancing around him at the bustling road.

"Maybe so, but you need more variety, and there is no way I'm going to allow you to go on any longer without," Thomas said, winking.

Alexander walked out of the shop with three new outfits, courtesy of Thomas. If Alex had just not looked left, they could've had the perfect rest of the day off.

He stopped dead in his tracks, clutching the two parcels he'd told Thomas he'd carry.

The whip rose up and cracked down, five times. Who knows how long it'd been going on before Alex had seen. His chest tightened as the crowd swarmed around him, hurrying to get where they had to be.

It took Jefferson but three beats to realize what had happened. Less than one to be at Alex's side, comforting him.

"It's ok, you're safe now," he murmured to Alex, slipping his arm around his waist and squeezing reassuringly. "They can't get you."

Only a couple people spared the two friends glances before hurrying along their way.

"D'you think you can walk home with me or should I get someone to pick us up?" Thomas murmured in that same tone.

Alex slowly nodded, wanting nothing more than to get home. He didn't spare a second thought for the fact that he'd come to think of Thomas' house as his home.

Finally the lashes stopped and the man bearing the whip left the scene.

' _Did he see me? He couldn't've seen me, he's can't possibly be coming to get me, surely he's not coming to punish me-'_

Alex's thoughts spiraled out of out of control, even as Thomas led him home. At some point in time, Thomas had taken the parcels from Alex's hands and placed them on the couch as they went by it, not sparing them a second glance.

Alex slumped onto their bed, Thomas pulling him close.

"Hey baby, it's ok, they're not going to get you," he crooned. "You're the last thing on their mind."

"He just kept going and going," Alex whispered. "He wouldn't stop the lashes. I counted five before I could stop myself. You never count the lashes they dish out, that's one of the first rules you learn. It hurts less that way."

Thomas stroked Alex's hair, still holding him close, murmuring comforting things into his ear.

"When he stopped I was so relieved, but then he disappeared. I thought he was coming for me next," Alex breathed, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"They'll never hurt you, I promise," Thomas said, still stroking Alex's hair.

"I didn't want them to get me again," Alex sobbed. "That- that first night, I dreamt that they found me, that they beat me senseless. They were laughing at how I thought I could escape them forever, and I thought it was real, I thought they'd gotten me again, I thought I was going to die in that shed."

"It's ok, they'll never get you, you're safe," Thomas repeated. "You'll never be hurt again as long as I'm alive."

Thomas kissed Alex's tearstained cheek as if that was the wax sealing for the promise. Alex leaned into Thomas' touch, closing his eyes in relish.

"I was so close to being caught before, I could see the dogs snapping their jaws, searching for my scent," Alex whispered. "They thought the dogs had found a squirrel when they started clawing at the tree I was in. I remember clinging to the trunk, so very close to breaking down, the pine sap sticking to my hands, my face, my clothes. I was so close to being caught.

"I was so very close to being caught and beaten senseless, it terrified me out of my wits. As they started walking away I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped me and they looked right at where I was clutching the trunk. Then they turned and left.

"I was so so close."

"Shhh, it's ok Alex, you're safe, they're never going to get to you again, ever." Thomas planted another kiss on Alex's cheek, continuing to stay by Alex's side all through the night, holding him close.

And right as Alex was drifting off to sleep, Thomas breathed, ever so softly,

 _I love you, Alex._

And he was convinced that he heard Alexander murmur them back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Huge shoutout to DragonLCC for the idea for this chapter! Your review had me drumming the table in excitement to write this!**

 **Also, while writing this I noticed a few plot holes, one of the biggest being that I forgot a few characters and locations. Let's just say that Jefferson lives near Alex's apartment rather than in Monticello and that Hamilton's other friends are visiting Lafayette or something, and Alex declined in favor of advancing in his work.**

 **I honestly don't even know about Eliza.**

 **Sorry about that, I just realized that two-thousand words into this chapter and I'm too lazy to change it all.**

* * *

He looked down at the paper in his hands, proving what he'd suspected for the past while.

After _Alexander Hamilton's_ dramatic flee in the congress meeting about slavery he'd wracked his brains, wondering where he'd heard that name.

Even though he wasn't one to follow politics, everyone had been talking about his violent reaction.

So he'd gone to his old records.

Alexander Hamilton, from Nevis, the Caribbean Islands. Escaped several years back.

Indow grinned malevolently. _He never let a slave escape._

* * *

Alex snorted, the wine he'd previously been swallowing rushing up out his nose and onto the couch. Had he been anyone else, Thomas might've berated Alex viciously for it.

"Gaaah, fuck you Jefferson!" he laughed, attempting in vain to rid himself of the burning in his face, courtesy of the wine. "Fuck you and your stupid face!"

"You wish," Thomas snarked. Alex spluttered for a few seconds, searching for a comeback but to no avail. Thomas smirked and took a swig of his own wine.

"You little shit," he eventually decided on.

"You know you love me," Thomas said sweetly, grinning widely. Alex huffed, crossing his arms dramatically.

"The question is, how the hell did I fall for someone as-" Alex paused, frowning, searching for the right word.

"What's wrong, is the master of words finally stumped?" Thomas teased.

"Writing words is easier than saying them," Alex answered, still trying to find a good enough word.

"Oh really."

"You repulsive person!" Alex crowed triumphantly after a couple more seconds of thinking. "The question is, how the hell did I fall for someone as repulsive as you!"

"Is that really the word for me?" Thomas mused, sipping from his glass. "I was thinking beautiful, amazing, splendid, mysterious-"

"Mysterious?" Alex snorted.

"I can be mysterious when I want to be," Thomas said stiffly, drawing himself up to his full height and holding the pose for a few seconds before breaking down laughing.

" _Right."_

They both burst out laughing, Alex leaning his head on Thomas' chest. His heart nearly burst as he looked down at Alex, eyes closed in bliss and pulled an arm around his torso, pulling him closer. He was thankful that they were sitting on the sofa rather than at the table as the hard, wooden chairs would quickly become uncomfortable whilst the soft cushions enveloped them in a soft warmth.

"Alex," Thomas murmured hesitantly.

"Mmm?"

"I'm going to move you to our bed, mkay?" Thomas asked. Alex responded by snuggling further into Thomas' arms, causing him to chuckle a little. He changed his grip a bit then lifted Alex, causing the smaller man to scrabble at Thomas' shoulders, clinging on tightly, eyes shooting open.

"Thomas!" he squeaked. "Don't drop me!"

"I'd never drop you," Thomas said, smiling.

He carried Alex to the bed in the hallway and laid him down gently onto it. After removing his woolen overcoat, he laid down next to Alexander, who hadn't even bothered to remove his shoes before burying himself under the covers and shoving himself under Thomas' arm.

Thomas smiled and hugged him close to him, which was how they both fell asleep that night.

* * *

Thomas was the first to awake that morning for once and took the chance to see sun rays from a nearby window stream down onto Alexander's face, lighting it up beautifully.

"Hey, sweetie, it's time to wake up," he murmured quietly, placing his hand on Alex's chest, smiling.

"Nuh-uh," Alex groaned, shaking his head slightly.

"It's time to get ready to go to work," Thomas insisted.

Alex smirked and half-opened his eyes. "Only if you'll be my boyfriend." Thomas squeaked, a huge grin spreading over his face. He was frozen in that pose, a messy grin slapped across his face.

"Yes," he breathed. Alex smirked even more and pulled Thomas closer and kissed him, both of them positively melting into the other.

The kiss lasted for a good minute or so before they both retracted, breathing hard.

"That was the best damn kiss of my life," Thomas said, eliciting a laugh from Alex.

"C'm'on, was gotta get ready," Alex said, smiling widely.

"How should we tell Washington?" Thomas asked offhandedly while dressing himself. "I mean, he's practically your father."

"He's not my father!" Alex insisted.

"Ya, sure," Thomas snickered.

"Shut up Jefferson."

"You love me!" Thomas called.

"I do," Alex said, smiling instantaneously. Thomas finished pulling on his magenta overcoat and walked over to him, kissing his cheek before going out to get some breakfast around.

When Alex walked into the kitchen Thomas immediately ushered him out.

"You manage to burn water," he said. "I'm worried that your mere presence might ruin our meal."

"That was one time," Alex grumbled, crossing his arms and turning around to face Thomas.

"I didn't even know you could burn water!" Thomas exclaimed. "No, you being in a kitchen is a disaster waiting to-"

He was cut off by Alex's lips on his own, any argument he could make effectively silenced.

"I'm sure I'll be fine in there," Alex said, waltzing in. Thomas steamed for a few seconds before walking back to where he was attempting to make toast, his own cooking skills not much better than his boyfriend's.

 _My boyfriend,_ Thomas thought with a wide grin.

"Oh, how were we going to tell Washington again?" Thomas asked, realizing that his question had never been answered.

"We should hint at it then, then once he figures it out we can act all innocent when he starts seething about how we didn't tell him right away," Alex suggested, grinning malevolently.

"You're so evil, you know that?" Thomas laughed.

"Of course I know it," Alex drawled. "I've used to my advantage many times before."

"Like just now, when you snuck back in here?" Thomas challenged.

"You mean like this?" Alex asked, slamming himself into Thomas before he could process what he'd just said. He flipped the bread and strolled casually back to where he'd previously been leaning against the wall.

"You little shit," Thomas spluttered. Alex laughed, shrugging.

"You looked like you needed it, and look, I actually saved the toast from burning," Alex pointed out. While Thomas marveled at how he'd somehow saved breakfast rather than ruin it, Alex took the opportunity to swoop in behind him and hug him, leaning his head on his back.

Thomas started a bit at the unexpected contact, bringing his arm up sharply, hitting the pan's handle and causing it to go flying, falling to the floor with a clatter.

"Now who's ruined breakfast," Alex snorted, moving to Thomas' side, never losing contact with him.

"Oh, be quiet, you," Thomas laughed. He tried in vain to get something around for them to eat for the next half hour, and they ended up rushing to a coffee shop and grabbing something to go before practically sprinting to work. The arrived disheveled and out of breath, one bag for each clutched in hand, laughing rather loudly. They'd just barely made it on time, possibly the closest call Alexander had even had.

They each went to their offices, slumping down in their chairs and snickering a bit. Alex bit into his sandwich enthusiastically once he'd caught his breath, finishing it quickly. Thomas ate whilst writing, nibbling at it every few minutes.

Their smiles lasted throughout the entire day.

* * *

Indow asked around town as to where _it_ lived, eventually finding out by going under the disguise of being a friend of _it._

He tried the knob, twisting it back and forth, but it was locked. He glanced around to see if bashing the door down was an option, but too many people were nearby. He'd just have to wait for _it_ to come home.

* * *

Alex walked home with Thomas, talking animatedly, using his hands to paint images in the air.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to go home to get a couple more inkwells. I'm nearly out of my current ones," Alex said, cutting himself off.

"I thought it was just full a few days ago?" Thomas asked skeptically.

"I write a lot," Alex reminded him.

"Ah, I see, you've been writing your poor hands off," Thomas concluded.

"I'll go home and get those, you can go ahead. I'll be just ten minutes behind you," Alex assured him.

"Ok, see you later," Thomas said as their paths split ways. Alex followed the left road, counting down houses until he reached his dingy apartment. He readied his keys to let himself into his house, feeling the cold metal slid over his fingers.

Someone was loitering outside his door, someone who struck fear into his very bones. He felt his blood run cold as Indow growled, " _found you."_

 _He'd been caught he'd been caught he'd been caught he'd been caught-_

He didn't notice his keys clattering to the ground, slipping from his trembling hands.

 _They were going to torture him, kill him slowly and painfully-_

His heart was racing as Indow strolled up to him, eyes shining malevolently.

 _Thomas isn't here to protect me. He won't know where I am once he takes me-_

He didn't realize he was running for several seconds, dry sobs escaping him. Indow grabbed onto his arm, jerking him back roughly. Alex cried out, falling limply, chest heaving.

 _Should've kept your fucking big head down-_

He was being taken away, and he dimly registering that he was hyperventilating.

 _Maybe if I'm lucky I'll die now._

Luck never was on his side, he would reflect ruefully later.

* * *

Thomas was starting to worry. Alex had said he'd arrive ten minutes after Thomas, yet twenty later he couldn't see hide nor hare of him. Thomas glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the past minute. He moved out to the deck, looking down each direction of the street.

He forced down the gnawing worry - _it's only been five minutes,_ he tried to tell himself, _he's probably just searching through a huge mess for his inkwells, knowing how unorganized he is_ \- and sat himself down inside, only to get up and resume pacing a mere five seconds later.

Alex's apartment wasn't that far away, though.

Thomas set out for Alex's apartment, knowing that he was being irrational but worrying nonetheless. He didn't give a flying shit about whether or not Alex would tease him about how worried he was, he was going to find out what was taking him so long.

* * *

Thomas saw Alex being dragged off by a man, pale and hyperventilating. They were nearly fifteen feet away from him. His long legs reached new speeds that day.

They got into the carriage before he could reach them.

He called his own carriage and ordered them to follow Alex.

They couldn't catch up.

* * *

Fear consumed him, leaving no room for air. It seemed as if he were drowning in terror. Indow was gloating to him at how he'd found him, even after all these years. He was pondering possible punishments, already choosing between whips. Alex remembered the whip that had come down on his back before and shuddered.

' _Hurry Thomas,'_ he thought desperately.

* * *

"Can't you go any faster?" Thomas asked the driver anxiously.

"We can try," he replied, urging the horses to even greater speeds. Thomas prayed that the horses could keep their current speed long enough to get Alex back. Their horseplay of the morning seemed a million years away, and Alex's lips on his seemed a dream in the haze of terror currently plaguing Thomas.

* * *

"I think we'll stop here, just to make sure you know that you're _mine,"_ Indow suggested offhandedly. He withdrew a length of knotted rope from his satchel. Alex nearly fainted from terror at the sight of it alone, heart hammering.

He was forced out into a clearing in the woods by the road they were previously traveling on. The whip was hanging malevolently by Indow's side. His shirt was being forced off.

* * *

He couldn't stop himself from counting.

One,

 _\- It was much worse than he remembered it to be -_

Two,

Three,

 _\- Alex fell to his knees -_

Four,

Five,

Six,

 _\- He curled in on himself as if that might help him escape the pain -_

Seven,

Eight,

Nine,

Ten.

Alex passed out.

* * *

Thomas saw the carriage pulled over long before they approached it. He had the driver stop and pull over and ran into the woods, hoping against hope that he was heading in the right direction.

* * *

He saw Alex on the ground, bleeding and at the feet of that man whom had a length of knotted rope in his hands.

The rope was bloody.

* * *

His fist was flying into the man's face, knocking him back.

The rope was raised, but Thomas dodged it.

He got behind him and wrapped his arm around his neck, pulling until he fell to the ground unconscious.

He was at Alex's side - _his poor, poor Alexander._

* * *

Thomas wouldn't leave Alex's side until the doctors said that he was just in the way. He made them promise to tell him of Alex so much as twitched.

He paced in the waiting room, fidgeting with his sleeve, striding across the length of the room in _one, two, three, four, five, six_ strides - turn - _one, two, three, four, five, six_ strides.

He eventually fell asleep in a chair, head lolling to the side.

* * *

Thomas was woken by a nurse who brought news of an awake Alex. He rushed to Alex's room, narrowly dodging several people in the hallway.

"Alex, honey, I'm here," Thomas assured.

He couldn't stop from trembling wildly in Thomas' arms, curled into his embrace. He kept him pulled close, terrified that this was all just a dream that would soon be snatched away.

"Sweetie, you're ok, it's okay, I'm here," Thomas repeated, kissing Alex's forehead. "I'll always find you, no matter how far away you are."

"Where is he? Tell me," Alex begged, brown eyes big and pleading.

"He's in jail right now awaiting his trial," Thomas said.

"What if he gets let off?" Alex worried.

"Then I'll never let him get to you again, ever," Thomas promised, planting another kiss on Alex's forehead.

"But what if he-" Thomas cut Alex off with a kiss on his lips. He would've smirked had it been under any other circumstances. He could learn from his boyfriend, no problem.

"I'll never let him get you," Thomas repeated, pulling away after a few seconds. "Never again."

He couldn't get the image of Alex laying limp on the ground, back soaked in blood. He shook his head a smiled reassuringly, for Alex.

"Never again."

* * *

They both skipped the next few weeks of work, Thomas refusing to leave Alex alone. Besides worrying about Alex's old master (the word still sounded ugly) coming back, he was also anxious about panic attacks. He wanted to be near Alex, make him feel safe. They spent the majority of their time in bed, snuggled up and talking about anything and everything.

Mostly Thomas assured Alex that he was never going back, that he would always be there, and that he loved him to the moon and back.

Everything he said during those few weeks was true.

Soon though, people began to speculate on why they were both missing so much work. Everyone was particularly curious on why Alex was vacant from his office, when once needing Washington to literally pick him up and move him outside to get him to go home when sick.

The people who'd been on Alex's street when it had happened began to talk, prideful on knowing something only a select number of people knew, happy to have a big piece of the puzzle that was this whole mystery involving Hamilton and Jefferson.

"We're going to have to tell Washington, aren't we." It was not a question.

"Only if you're ready, sweetie," Thomas crooned.

"I might have to be," Alex murmured, ducking his head down into Thomas' chest.

"Why? No one is going to force you," Thomas promised.

Alex couldn't find a response to that and instead curled tighter into Thomas, careful to not aggravate the wounds on his back and shoulders.

* * *

Alex wrung his hands nervously, heart pounding.

"You don't have to go unless you really want to," Thomas assured him.

"I do have to go though, to count as a witness. I can't do that from home," Alex said, eyes full of fear at the prospect of coming face to face with Indow _willingly._

"I count as a witness too," Thomas said. "I- I saw him do...that."

Thomas winced while saying it, remembering how he'd stopped in his tracks for a full second, horrified by what was happening. He shut his eyes and shook his head slightly as if that would help get the image out of his head.

Alex closed the remaining space between them and hugged him, nestling his head into Thomas' chest. They both needed it, to know that they weren't alone.

"You shouldn't be the one comforting me," Thomas mumbled. Alex made a small sound in the back of his throat, squeezing closer.

"Doesn't matter," Alex murmured. "We both need help."

Thomas chuckled a bit, savoring this moment of calm, being sure to return as much as he was receiving.

"You sayin' we're both broken?" he teased.

"Mhmm, you know it," Alex said, and in that moment in time they almost forgot about everything that had happened to them both in recent times. All the trauma, the pain and terror, everything.

"We'd better go now," Alex said quietly after a few seconds.

Thomas reluctantly stepped back, stretching out his hand. Alex clasped it, grateful for the connection.

When they walked into the court, Alex was forcing himself to breath evenly and deeply, stomach clenching up. He was clutching Thomas' hand hard enough to make him wince, though he kept his face devoid of any sign of pain. He was aware that if Alex knew that his grip hurt, he'd pull away, and that would cut off both of their main source of comfort.

For Thomas needed Alex's presence as well. He was just as terrified as Alex to confront Indow, knowing that if he got to Alex again, Thomas might not get there in time.

He forced that thought out of his head, knowing that it would only serve to scare him. He was nervous enough as it was.

The judge read the charges against Indow (torture of a former slave, kidnapping of a former slave) and had Alex speak against him. As Alex stood, Thomas couldn't help but mull over the fact that he'd kept drawing attention to his former status, rather than the fact that he was currently free.

"He confronted me at my doorstep and-" Alex bit his lip and gathered up the will to proceed "-and forced me into his carriage. He then proceeded to-" Thomas, who was sitting by Alex grabbed his hand and rubbed it soothingly "-to whip me ten times before I passed out. I awoke in the hospital."

"Next witness," the judge called. Thomas stood, letting his hands hang limp at his side. Alex seated himself, clenching his trembling hands.

"I went to Al- Hamilton's apartment when he was late to a meeting at my house. I saw him being hauled off and followed them." Thomas didn't say how terrified he'd been that he'd never see Alex again, how scared he was when they started falling behind, how he'd pleaded with the driver to go faster. "When they got out at the side of the road I followed the two of them into the woods and found Hamilton on the ground, unconscious." His voice wavered and he forced tears down. "I got him-" he nodded his head at Indow "-under control and got Hamilton to the nearest hospital."

"Defender?" The judge invited. Indow stood loosely, clearly confident.

"Alexander Hamilton is a runaway slave of mine, escaped in the year seventeen-seventy-three. As you know, if caught they are put to death. I was being merciful," Indow purred.

"You call beating someone ten times with a knotted whip _merciful?"_ Thomas burst out, scoffing. "At that point, I think death would be preferable. No one deserves to be put through that sort of treatment, no matter their class."

"Says the man who owns nearly six hundred slaves," Indow shot back.

"I've released most of them, and the people who are left have been given pay for their work," Thomas spat. "I hadn't known how badly they were treated until recently. If I had known earlier I would've done something to change it sooner."

"Do you have proof of this?" Indow asked sweetly.

"Order in the court!" the judge shouted, slamming the gavel down on the hardwood block placed for that purpose.

"Sorry, your honor," Thomas said, bowing his head meekly. Indow merely nodded, a contemptuous look flashing in his eyes directed at Thomas.

Alex forced his hands to stop shaking, knowing that they were fighting a losing battle. The judge was obviously someone who supported slavery, by the manner in which he spoke to and about him.

Alex whispered that much to Thomas, hoping to prepare him so he wouldn't do something he might regret.

"Your honor," Thomas said, standing once Alex stopped speaking in whispered tones. Alex shot a fearful look at him, telling him to _sit back down_ and _to shut up,_ that it wasn't worth it. "Just so I may remind you, Hamilton is a free man, and he is a registered citizen of the United States. To force him to go back to where he came from, that's be like someone forcing me to go into slavery despite the fact that I am free."

"I will keep that in mind," the judge drawled. Alex winced as Thomas sat back down once more.

"You shouldn't've done that," Alex breathed.

"He looked like he needed to be reminded. Besides, by bringing myself into the equation in that manner is a powerful move - I know that I'm a fairly big figure in this country," Thomas replied equally quiet, shrugging his shoulders by the smallest fraction.

"Now, for the charges against Hamilton," the judge said. Alex's heart skipped a beat. He had charges against himself?

"He has been accused of being a runaway slave - and so far, in all the times he's been called that, none of you have denied it, so he's obviously guilty of that," the judge continued.

Alex began trembling again. He'd screwed up again. He should've remembered to deny being a slave, as running away is punishable by death. But he'd been too caught up in his determination to lock Indow away to remember to deny it, _deny it._

Thomas took Alex's hand and squeezed it, looking into his eyes. Alex met his after a moment and nearly melted. Even through all this trouble he'd caused, Thomas was still here. What could he ever have done to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?

"As I'm sure you all know, that is punishable by death, though the master of the slave must ultimately decide."

Alex began trembling harder, clutching Thomas' hand like a lifeline.

"I just want it back."

Alex's heart stopped for a good five seconds, or so it seemed.

"Dismissed," the judge decreed, slamming the gavel down once more.

"Wait!" Thomas said, standing. Alex stayed sitting, breathing harder and harder by the minute, panic threatening to overwhelm him. "Sir!"

"Yes?" The judge asked tiredly.

"Alex is a free man, you can't just make him go back now! He's been free for over decade!" Thomas pleaded.

"Illegally free," the judge pointed out.

"But free nonetheless," Thomas countered.

"Look, in the way I see it, he's just another runaway slave, no matter how many years he's managed to slip under our radar," the judge said tiredly.

"But he's not _just_ another slave, he's a real human with real _thoughts_ and _hopes_ and _dreams_ and _feelings,_ just like all the others back there!" Thomas protested.

"He's not going to change his mind," Alex whispered, hating himself for the tear that escaped. "I'm not worth it."

"But you _are_ worth it," Thomas argued.

"I'm just another person, what difference does it make?" Alex asked quietly. Thomas knelt down so he could look Alex in the eye, who kept his eyes downcast.

"You are not just another person. You have worth - and no, not just in the way that you can provide free labor," Thomas said to Alex, looking him in the eyes even though the gaze wasn't being returned.

"He'll be put into custody until further notice," the judge said, interrupting the little moment in between the two men.

" _I'm going to ask Washington for help,"_ Thomas said as Alex stood up to be led out.

Alex whipped around to face him, something alighting in his eyes. _Hope,_ Thomas realized. Washington might just be the only way out of this.

Alex hugged Thomas tightly, just in case it didn't work out. Thomas held him as tight as he could, pushing away the unimaginable.

* * *

There was still time to catch him before the day was over, Thomas thought as he desperately ran towards the big white building, shoving open the doors. He ran into someone carrying quite a few papers, continuing on even as papers flew to the floor and the man cursed.

"Jefferson here to see the pres- president," he panted as he reached the door to Washington's office. The security guards glanced at each other, wondering what could possibly have made Jefferson appear so out of breath before letting him through.

"Sir, I- Alex- _we,_ I mean, needs your help, that is Alex and I," Thomas rambled as soon as he was in. Washington looked up, a concerned, questioning look on his face. "I'll explain on the way over, but sir, we must hurry. I don't know how long we have."

"Was Alex hurt?" Washington asked.

"No, but he's going to be if we don't get there in time. Sir, you have to convince the judge to let him go!" Thomas exclaimed.

"What'd he do this time?" Washington asked worriedly.

"Nothing, this once. Sir, I have to prepare you-" Thomas stopped, pulling Washington over to the side. He lowered his voice so that only he could hear it and said, "Alex, he- his past isn't what might be expected. I wanted him to be able to tell you this, but under the circumstances, he can't.

"Alex used to be a slave, and his master has returned for him. The judge has got him in custody until he can get the papers signed to get him back," Thomas said gravely. Washington nodded and they took off running once more. And thank the lord for small miracles, the courthouse was nearby.

Washington slowed to a walk only when they were outside the room where Alex had been condemned. He straightened his jacket and walked in, pushing the doors out in quite the dramatic entrance.

"Of for goodness sakes," they could hear the judge muttering. "What is it this time, Mr. Jefferson? Oh-" the judge straightened up, quickly adjusting his overcoat. "-President Washington, a pleasure to see you!"

"Where are you holding Alex?" he asked coldly.

"Just down the hall," the judge squeaked. "Last door on your right."

Jefferson sprinted out instantaneously, long legs covering ground easily. He tried the door handle frantically, but it was locked. Then Washington arrived and slid the key into the lock, turning it quickly.

The room was made of cold grey stone with nothing decorating it, which produced the feeling of distress and despair. Alex was sitting despondently on the hard bench, shoulders slumped in defeat, head down in submission before they arrived.

Thomas saw his head snap up fearfully, already retreating farther back on the bench. Thomas could see the exact moment Alex realized who'd come, the exact moment his eyes lit up in _hope_ , filling every inch of Alex's face.

Alex shot up and launched himself at Thomas, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Shh, it's alright, you're okay," Thomas crooned, rubbing soothing circles into his back. He could feel Alex's whole being trembling and sobs ripped themselves from his throat. He clutched at Thomas as if were he to let go, even for a millisecond, he would lose Thomas forever.

Washington watched from the other side of the doorway, smiling in thankfully. Hamilton was going to be okay.

"It's alright, everything's fine," Thomas repeated in the same comforting tone. "You're never going back. I promised you that, didn't I? You're staying with me, whether you like it or not."

Alex's only reply was clutching Thomas tighter, sobbing in utter relief.

* * *

"Are you sure?' Thomas asked quietly, searching Alex's face for a hint that he might be lying.

"I think we should come clean about everything," Alex mumbled, clasping Thomas' hands in his own. "He deserves that much, after saving me 'n all."

"Only if you're ready," Thomas promised. Alex nodded and they left the house to go to work for the first time in nearly two months.

They were quickly admitted into Washington's office, the guards instantly recognizing them.

"Sir, I'd like to officially thank you for...everything, really," Alex murmured, standing close enough to Thomas that he couldn't see them holding hands behind their backs.

"No need, I take care of those I care about," Washington said, smiling reassuringly. "I trust that you're doing fine?"

Alex nodded and swallowed his nervousness. If Washington was accepting of his past, he'd surely be fine with this.

"Also, there's one more thing you should know," he said quietly. Washington looked at him questioningly and the two of them stepped apart, revealing their clasped hands. He blinked for a second before smiling once again.

"You two boys have come so far," he chuckled. Alex chose to ignore the fact that the president of the United States of America seemed to be tearing up a bit.

"We'll get back to work then," Thomas said awkwardly after a couple of seconds, shifting on his feet. He wasn't expecting this bit to be _nearly_ this emotional.

"No, no, you boys take the day off. You deserve it," Washington said.

"With all due respect, we've been sitting on our asses for nearly two months." Washington let out a short bark of laughter at this and waved them off.

"If you're really that determined to work, go ahead. Do you want to work in the same office?" he asked. Alex looked up at Thomas, smiling excitedly. Thomas' heart nearly melted at the sight of it and quickly nodded.

"That'd be great."

* * *

 **If anyone has any more ideas for this, please please please tell me! I've loved writing this, and I'd love writing even more for it! It's always fun to have the readers be able to interact with how the story turns out, in my opinion.**

 **Constructive criticism is always welcomed! Again, special thanks to DragonsLCC for the idea for this chapter!**

 **May your inspiration be plenty,**

 **-Ranger Corpses**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I've never written the other three mains before, so I hope they're not too ooc. It'll probably get better later on in the chapter once I get used to them. Thanks for your patience!**

 **Oh, and, since I only know a couple words I've picked up from various fanfics, I'm using google translate for the French translations. Sorry if any of it is wrong.**

 **Also, to you DragonLCC, thanks for the review and ideas! I swear, they're so good, so keep them coming! And I don't mind that you were rambling, we all do sometimes. ;3**

 **Holy crap I'm referencing my own bloody fanfic before you guys have even read that scene. What have I come to.**

 **Anyways, I swear I'm going to use your ideas, I just got this idea and was all like 'MUST! WRITE!' because when I get an idea for writing, that's what I do. And, heaven forbid, if I'm somewhere like in PE *cough cough recently cough cough* and I get an idea then I was start freaking jumping up and down, waving my arms and screaming to my friends (my poor friends, what did I ever do to deserve you guys) 'I MUST WRITE THIS DOWN! NOW!'**

 **Anyways, I'll cut this author's note off here, but I have a couple more things to say so they'll be another note at the bottom.**

* * *

Three-fourths of the Revolutionary Dream Team, as they were dubbed by the others, rushed off the gangplank of the ship onto American soil for the first time in five months.

"It is so nice to be back here," Lafayette said, words dripping with his French accent.

"Sure is," John agreed, smiling widely. "C'mon, we gotta go over to Alex's and bombard him with our glorious presence!"

"Definitely," Hercules said, shifting his grip on his bags.

They quickly got a carriage set to go to Alex's apartment and arrived buzzing in excitement at seeing the fourth part of them. However no one answered when they knocked.

"Alex, it's us!" John called.

"That could mean literally anyone, John," Hercules reminded him.

"Ya, but he can tell our voices apart from others," John argued.

"Do not forget that the door muffles us," Lafayette pointed out. John folded his arms, having set his bags down to knock.

"Fine, whatever. Anyways, we have this," John said, smirking as he withdrew a key from his pocket.

"If you had that why did you knock?" Hercules asked.

"It's called manners," John said, walking in.

"Bonjour, mon petit lion!" Lafayette called. _(Hello, my little lion!)_

"Alex? Where are you?" he asked himself as he peeked into his room.

"Guys, the stove is pretty dusty, it hasn't been used lately," Hercules shouted.

"He doesn't do much cooking," John said, waving it off. "He must've been going to cafes or something."

"Oui, but explain this: there is no ink, quills or parchments here at all," Lafayette said. _(Yes)_

"That _is_ pretty concerning," John admitted reluctantly. "I'll go into his office and ask where he is."

"We're coming too!" Hercules demanded.

"Mkay, but drop your stuff off here. He wouldn't mind," John said, shrugging. It didn't really matter who came with to find out where Alex was, so long as they found out in his eyes. They got a carriage and had them go to the White House, jumping out once they arrived. Hercules paid the driver and caught up with the other two, Lafayette taking long and purposeful strides that John and Hercules had to rush to keep up with.

"Good evening, sir," they all greeted once they got admitted into Washington's office.

"Good evening boys," Washington said, smiling.

"Have you any clue where Alex might be, mon ami?" Lafayette asked. _(My friend)_

"He's been staying over at Jefferson's lately-" they all exchanged confused looks before looking back at Washington, who'd started to smile faintly "-so I'd either check there or in his office."

"Merci," Lafayette says distractedly, frowning, deep in thought. _(Thanks)_

"Why'd he be over there?" John thought aloud as they walked over to Jefferson's house.

"Thought they were enemies," Hercules said thoughtfully.

"Well, there is only one way to find out," Lafayette cried, speeding up. He decided that they were close enough that they didn't need to get a carriage, and John and Hercules had to hurry to keep up.

"Slow down, tu merde," John said as he jogged every few steps to keep up, feeling a bit like a child trying to keep up with his parents. _(You shit)_

"Non," Lafayette laughed. _(No)_

Lafayette was, of course, the first to reach the door. John was just a few steps behind Hercules, who were both slightly out of breath. Laf knocked and a few seconds later Jefferson answered it, a small, slightly tentative smile on his face which quickly grew bigger.

"Alex, no worries, it's just Herc, Laf and John!" he called. John did a double take at Jefferson using shortened versions of the other two's first names.

"Guys, you're back!" Alex greeted, running over to them. "How are you?"

"Toi, alors?" Lafayette said, smiling widely. _(Great, you?)_

"Aussi bien que je peux être," Alex said, smile falling a fraction before returning. _(As good as I can be)_

Laf and John shot him confused looks, while Hercules was completely in the dark as he only knew a few basic terms in French.

"Anyways, mind if we come in?" John asked.

"Oh, ya, ya, course!" Alex said. Jefferson grinned a bit as Alex waved them in.

"Oh, by the way, we swung by your place and left our stuff there. Locked it back up though," Hercules said as he walked past Alex and Jefferson.

"S'all cool," Alex assured them. "You sure you locked it though?"

"I watched John do it myself," Lafayette promised.

Alex nodded before looking up to Jefferson. "Should I get something around or-" he let the sentence hang, smirking as Jefferson shook his head violently.

"Like I said, you've burnt water before," he said.

"That was one time, and it was only because I wasn't watching!" Alex protested. "Besides, you're nearly as bad as me."

The three friends looked on at this strange sight - Alex and Jefferson were arguing, yes, but rather they were arguing playfully. Their words held no bite.

"I can cook," Lafayette offered.

"No, you're a guest!" Jefferson insisted. "We'll figure something out. We've made do so far anyways."

"We just have to follow the recipe," Alex said. "That means no experimenting. It'll be fine just the way it is without your tinkering."

They both laughed and went off to the kitchen, leaving the other three to settle in and puzzle over all this. Laughter rang through to the sitting room as they sat down on the couch.

"So, what do you make of it?" John asked.

"If it were anyone else I might say that they have made up, but this is Alex and Jefferson that we are talking about. Two of the most têtu et fier men on Earth," Lafayette commented. _(Stubborn and prideful)_

"Oh you little shit!" they could hear Jefferson laugh. "Oh, I am so going to kill you for this!"

None of them could hear malice lacing those words.

"They're teasing each other," Hercules mused.

"I'm going to go get our stuff, if anyone wants to help," John said abruptly, standing up. He was really only going to be alone, Lafayette could tell that much, and was just asking to be polite.

"We will tell them where you have gone, mon ami," he promised. _(My friend)_

Hercules picked up on what his Lafayette was trying to tell him without actually saying it and said, "we'll be here when you get back - if the house hasn't burned down by then." He added the last half of the sentence with a smile on his face and John snorted.

"Well, see you in no more than twenty minutes," John said before leaving. Alex came in a few seconds later, concern alight in his eyes.

"I thought I heard the door open?" he asked.

"John's gone back to get our stuff. Did you want him to grab anything of yours?" Hercules asked.

"Nah, that's fine. Just wanted to know," Alex said, shrugging it off before going back into the kitchen.

"He never used to be that worried about the coming and going of people," Lafayette pondered. "Yet now he is coming at the sound of the door opening."

"He's probably just in a different environment?" Hercules tried.

"Non, that is not it. Remember when he went to your house for the first time? He was not concerned in the least about it," Lafayette pointed out. _(No)_

Hercules couldn't come up with anything for that.

* * *

"Hey, food's done," Jefferson called.

Hercules checked the clock on the wall and, seeing that John would still be a few more minutes, shouted back, "John should be back pretty quickly, if you want to wait for him."

"Do you want to wait for him?" Alex asked, eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Not particularly," Hercules admitted shamelessly. "But I thought I should ask anyways."

"I imagine that ship food is pretty crappy," Alex said,

"Tasted like merde," Lafayette laughed. _(Shit)_

They all laughed about that for a few seconds before a quick knock sounded against the door. Alex's nervous glance towards Jefferson did not go unnoticed, and neither did his comforting look of reassurance back. It opened to reveal John carrying several bags and bending over to pick up a fourth, which he'd set down to grab the handle and Alex let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

"Hey, there are more bags in the carriage, if anyone wants to help out," John panted, letting the bags fall with a thump to the floor to the side of the door.

"No, I think I'll just sit here and watch you labor endlessly," Hercules laughed before getting up to go get his own bags. Alex chewed on his lip unhappily for a second before following with a rather forced laugh.

This didn't go unnoticed either.

"Well, because John already brought my bags in as well as his, I can help get the food out onto the table," Lafayette offered, eager to see what the two worst chefs in the world had managed to concoct.

"If you insist, though you're still a guest," Jefferson said after a moment's thought.

"America will not be making me lazy, war or no," Lafayette said determinedly.

"Ok," Jefferson said reluctantly. Lafayette marched off towards his office.

"Wrong way," Jefferson called. Lafayette's laughter announced that he'd most likely found his bed.

"Mon ami, pourquoi?" Lafayette managed to get out. _(My friend, why?)_

"It was convenient," Jefferson said, "but that's besides the point. Kitchen's this way."

Lafayette walked in, undeterred by his mix-up.

"Tell me what to do," he ordered, clasping his hands together.

"Well, you can take some of that out," he replied, pointing to a counter with multiple platters on them.

"Génial," Lafayette said, grabbing a plate and balancing it on his arm. He then grabbed two more, unable to maneuver a fourth onto his other arm. _(Great)_

"No, wait, they'll-" Jefferson broke off as the one on his arm fell "-fall."

"To be fair, only un fell," Lafayette commented. _(One)_

"Still," Jefferson fake-whined. Lafayette laughed, used to Jefferson's teasing as he'd known him for a bit before.

"Oh, tais-toi," Lafayette grumbled good-naturedly. _(Shut up)_

"Rude," Jefferson said, punching Lafayette lightly in the arm.

"Watch out, I'll drop these too," Lafayette threatened.

"Ok, ok," Jefferson said, holding his hands up in defeat. Lafayette flashed him a grin and walked out to the dining room, which he'd walked past on his way to the kitchen. He set down the plates and dodged Thomas who had two plates as well. Between the two of them they managed to get all the plates but one out by the time Alex relented and showed the other two to the kitchen.

"A bed in the hallway?" John asked incredulously, looking over to Alex. "Why?"

"Dunno, ask Thomas, he's the idiot who put it there," Alex laughed. "He refused to move it despite my very convincing arguments against it.

"Convincing my ass," Jefferson scoffed. "More like terribly weak."

"What, so ease of access isn't a good reason to move it? It is rather hard to get from the office out quickly," Alex said, no doubt having brought it up many times before.

"But why would you need to be in a hurry?" Thomas asked. Alex sent him a meaningful look that no one could decipher and Thomas nodded, before saying, "well, maybe then, but otherwise, when?"

"In a fire?" Alex asked as if it were obvious.

"Why would there be a fire?" Thomas snorted.

"Arson, a kitchen accident-"

"No doubt caused by you and your terrible cooking skills," Thomas interrupted.

"Like you're not every bit as bad as me," Alex shot back easily. Everyone was muffling laughter at the banter, not wanting to interrupt.

"It's not like I've had much experience, not needing to cook and all," Thomas said. A flash of...something Lafayette couldn't identify, crossed Alex's face and Thomas quickly added, "but I'm learning."

Alex smiled a bit, eyes softening. "You sure are," he said softly. The observers had approximately three seconds to ponder this lightning-fast change of tone before Thomas clapped his hands together, making the three newcomers jump a bit.

"Well, food's getting cold so we'd better hurry up and eat it before it turns to ice," he said.

John was unnaturally silent, saying that he hadn't had good food in quite a while when on the ship when questioned. Alex and Jefferson accepted this, taking it all in stride. However, John was pondering their current change in relationship rather than enjoying the hot food.

' _Alex is different,'_ he thought to himself. ' _Before he wouldn't have thought twice about Jefferson's statement, 'it's not like I've had much experience.' Now he has Jefferson scrambling to amend himself...why?_

' _Not only that but Jefferson is trying to...help?'_ No, that's not the word for it, John thought, narrowing his eyes the tiniest fraction. ' _Maybe not help, but not hurt Alex in some way. But almost nothing hurts Alex.'_

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Alex asking him something.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, feeling his face heat up.

"What'd you do in France?" Alex repeated.

"Oh, ya. We just kinda hung out with Laf, went around and tried a crap ton of food and such. Not much," John replied, shrugging.

"Sounds fun," Alex replied in a tone that could be described as almost wistful.

"So, how did you and Jefferson become friends anyways?" Lafayette asks casually. He didn't miss the nervous, pleading glance he cast towards Thomas. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared, but he caught it.

"Long story," Alex replied after a few second's thought.

"We have time," Hercules said easily.

"I got something against Alex - you know, blackmail, if you like - and we kinda bonded over that. But don't worry!" Thomas added hurriedly as he saw the other's suspicious looks. "I'm not planning on telling anyone without his consent. I mean, unless it's a matter of life or death," he said added. He cast a sorrowful glance over at Alex, who shrugged.

' _It was necessary,'_ he mouthed.

"You know it's coming," John said with a smile on his face. "What's the scoop?"

"'S nothin'," Alex mumbled.

"C'mon, we've seen enough for you to not be embarrassed by anything," Hercules whined. "You know enough about each of us to write a pretty incriminating book anyways, so even if we use it against you, then you could use that stuff against us."

"Really guys, it's nothing," Alex insisted. "You each already know enough about me to fill a pretty incriminating book too."

"True, but we don't know nearly enough," Lafayette said, smiling sweetly.

"It's nothing!" Alex exclaimed a touch angrily. Then he mumbled, "Nothing that matters, anyways. 'S'all in the past anyways."

"If it doesn't matter then-"

"He said he doesn't want to tell," Thomas interrupted abruptly. "Just leave it at that!"

"Nous étions en train de tromper," Lafayette muttered. _(We were just fooling around)_

"All in good fun," John said for Hercule's benefit more than anyone else, as he was the only one who couldn't understand French.

Alex slumped back in his chair breathing a near silent _thank you_ to Thomas and clenched his hands under the table to stop them from trembling.

Thomas glanced at the clock and saw that it was only six-thirty. He thought quickly for something to do and blurted, "who's in for a game of cards?"

"Sure!" Alex said, relieved that Thomas had managed to think of something less awkward to do so quickly. "I'll go get the deck."

Thomas nodded and got the dishes into the sink, not even bothering to try to decline the others' help. He got everyone into the sitting room and grabbed some bottles of wine from the cellar, Alex jumping on the chance to get alone and out of sight of others with his boyfriend. He disappeared down after him saying that Thomas surely try to take a bunch of bottle at once a drop them all.

"Thanks for that, back there," Alex whispered.

"Hey, no problem, they shouldn't have been pressuring you," Thomas whispered back. "Consent is key."

"They didn't mean anything by it, they were joking, you know? Sometimes they don't really know when to stop though," Alex said. "But they're great, honest."

"Hey, I don't doubt it," Thomas promised. "But if you ever need saving from anything, conversation or otherwise, I've got your back."

Alex nodded gratefully, pressing a quick kiss onto Thomas' lips. "We should get going, or else they'll wonder what's keeping us."

Thomas put his hand on Alex's shoulder, careful to not let the bottle he was holding hit Alex or fall.

"Hey," he whispered. "Love you."

"Love you too," Alex murmured, hugging him tightly.

"Yo, what took so long?" John guffawed once they got back up. None of them missed the light blush already painting their cheeks, which grew darker with the question.

"Thomas was being stubborn and wouldn't let me carry a couple of the bottles so I had to wrestle them away," Alex supplied. It was quite the pitiful lie, especially as, had that been true, they'd have been shouting playfully at each other. It was painfully obvious that it was something much more personal, though they left it alone, accepting the lie suspiciously.

* * *

Hercules ended up crashing on the couch, having fallen asleep there and being immovable while John and Lafayette staggered up the stairs, assisted by a mostly sober Alex.

"Damn," John chuckled. "Guess I didn't make it to three this time, eh?"

"Not this time," Alex laughed. "Laf, this way. Only a few more doors."

"Where is your room?" Laf slurred, accent coming through full-force.

"Uh, downstairs," Alex said. Technically true, though not completely honest. He was lucky that the two of them were so wasted they didn't notice his hesitation nor would they remember any of this conversation come morning.

Alex got them in their respective beds and strolled back downstairs, hating himself for checking around the corners before walking out into the opening. Just one more side effect of the previous couple of months.

He slipped under the sheets, having already thrown his overcoat onto the floor and being just drunk enough to not care about sleeping in his day-clothes.

"What're we gonna say to them when they inevitably find out about us?" Alex murmured to Thomas who was already half asleep.

"The truth if you're good with that. Could say you had a nightmare if not," Thomas mumbled back, eyes half closed.

"About what though, if we were to go with that?" Alex asked.

"Dunno."

"You're such a huge help, you know that right?" Alex asked, laughing quietly.

"Yeah," Thomas murmured before falling asleep. Alex shrugged and snuggled up into his side, drifting slowly into an uneasy rest.

* * *

 _Up, down_ crack! _Up, down_ crack! _Alex tried to cry out for Thomas, but found that his voice was gone, that he couldn't scream or shout for help. He ran away, feet dragging as if going through molasses. His back was burning as if on fire and the whip came down again -_ crack! _Alex sobbed a silent sob, trying to force his voice to come back._

 _Thomas appeared in front of him, mere feet away. Alex could've sobbed with relief. He felt his feet dragging, dragging slowly as he ran to him. The whip continued falling down -_ crack! Crack! Crack!

 _Thomas kept drifting away, never getting closer. Then he was gone and hands were forcing him down. More whips fell upon him -_ crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

 _It was all a cruel joke, showing him Thomas then stealing him away. It wasn't fair to give him hope then snatch it away like that._

Crack! Crack! Crack!

* * *

He awoke in a cold sweat, shivering despite the blankets covering him. And, while he supposed that the sweating could easily be explained by the nightmare he'd had, the sluggish feeling weighing down his limbs and the ache in his throat couldn't be as easily. He sniffed - not because he was crying, but because he was trying to clear his nose.

'Dammit,' he cursed internally, unwilling to wake Thomas. He easily recognized the symptoms of a common cold, having gotten them before. His eyes drooped and, before he could stop himself, he fell asleep again.

* * *

When he awoke next, his throat seemed even more sore and a light hangover was pounding upon his head. Before he could stop himself he coughed weakly, both aggravating his throat and waking Thomas.

"Wha's goin' on?" he asked groggily.

"Nuthin," Alex slurred tiredly.

"You're sick," Thomas said, propping himself up on his elbow, forcing his eyes open.

"How d'you know?" Alex shot back weakly.

"Jemmy's been sick often enough I learn to recognize it," Thomas informed him, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Do you need anything?"

"Mmm, about a year of sleep," Alex said before sneezing, unable to bring his arm up in time to cover his mouth. "'M real sluggish."

"Don't worry, you'll be perfectly fine," Thomas promised, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "I'll go get some toast around for you. I'll be right back, ya?"

Alex nodded exhaustedly and quickly fell asleep. John soon stumbled downstairs and, not yet knowing his way around, stumbled across Alex in a light, fitful sleep.

"He's got a cold," Thomas whispered so as to not wake Alex he came up behind John. "I did get some toast ready, but he's asleep now, so do you want it? You can get some jam or something for it if you like. I know you'll probably have a nasty hangover, so maybe something small like this would be better than eggs or something like that."

"Oh, uh, thanks," John said, ignoring the pang he felt when he saw Alex sleeping in Thomas' bed. He was probably just there for easy access so no one would have to run up and down the stairs to take care of him.

Then he saw Alex's green tailcoat on the ground by the bed and he knew, _knew_ that, whatever this was, that wasn't the case.

"Actually," he amended, just barely alert to keep the sorrow out of his voice and to keep his face bright. "I'm not that hungry. Thanks though."

"No problem," Thomas said. He looked down at the plate in his hands containing two slices of plain toast. After a moment of thought he put it down on a nearby nightstand along with a glass of water.

"You wanna go out to the dining room? I should've gotten the paper delivered a couple hours ago if you want to read that, or we could just talk," Thomas suggested to John, walking away from the bed.

"Sure," John forcing a smile, though he soon found that it became easy and genuine.

Thomas stopped on the way to duck outside and grab the newspaper, careful to keep the sound of the door opening and closing quiet.

"Why doesn't Alex like the sound of a door opening?" John asked. Had he been a bit more awake, he might never have asked that, though for now he was just tired enough that he didn't have much of a filter.

Thomas looked at the paper in his hands for a minute or two before answering carefully, "some stuff happened while you guys were gone, and now Alex is a bit more...jumpy, though that's his story to tell."

"Why won't you say anything about it? Normally you'd jump on the chance to make him uncomfortable - that's just how you guys went at it," John asked.

"If he doesn't want to tell you guys, then I won't. It's...it's a touchy subject. For me, consent is key. When I first confronted him about it in his office, I thought we could sort of...laugh it off. I honestly don't know what I expected. But anyways, that's not what happened and we sort of...bonded over me helping him. Then things went to shit and we both started comforting each other." Thomas shuddered, shaking his head, trying to dispel uncomfortable images of Alex lying on the ground, bleeding into the grass.

"Honestly, I hope nothing ever gets as bad as that again. You always think that tragedy is...not better, but different, exciting, in a morbid sense. Then it happens and all you want is to forget all about it. Alex was the one who got hurt, but I had to see it happen and now we're both affected by it. More so than just, I'm concerned for him, you know? Like, we're both broken, rather than just me feeling sympathetic for him being broken." Thomas frowned, wondering if he'd let out too much. "If, if that makes sense. We're not literally broken, just-"

"You were just using a metaphor?" John asked.

"Exactly," Thomas said, smiling. "And, hey. Could you maybe...not ask about it anymore? He'll tell you when he feels comfortable."

"Course," John agreed. Then, after a minute or so, "you're...you're not just friends, are you?"

"No," Thomas admitted. "But I haven't done anything so far without his consent, promise. It's ok, right? I know you're his best friend, and I don't- I don't want to do anything to hurt any of you, even if I did just meet you and Hercules yesterday and Laf, well, I knew him for a while but we've kind of fallen out of contact. I know how important you are to Alex."

"Course it's fine," John said, forcing himself to keep him smile, forcing himself to ignore than pang in his chest. Thomas let out a sigh of relief.

You were bound to find out eventually anyways," Thomas said, almost to himself. "Surely he wouldn't mind me telling you, right?"

"No, I don't think so. After all," John forced another smile, "it's not like you're shouting it from the rooftops. And like you said, we were bound to find out anyways."

"Thanks for this, you know, just listening to me ramble, you know? It's nice to let it out every so often. If you ever need to rant or talk or anything, hit me up, kay?" Thomas asked. "I mean, not like _that,_ I'd never do something like that to Alex, but-"

"I get what you mean," John said, smiling despite himself. "I'll remember that, thanks."

"I know I just dumped a lot on you just now, with that little bit with both of us being broken, and our relationship 'n all, but you were a really good listener, you know? I know that most people would back away like, dude, stop-" Thomas acted it out, putting his hands up and stepping back, drawing a laugh out from John "-but you just kind of took it all in stride, nodded in all the right places and understood what I meant even when I wasn't being the most clear, and I know I'm rambling, sorry, I'll just shut up now."

John laughed. "Naw, it's fine, we all ramble sometimes, even the best of us. Hard to believe, but sometimes I ramble too!"

Thomas laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The two of them got along fairly well, surprisingly enough.

"So, I guess I should return a favor. Anything you want to talk about?" Thomas asked.

How bad it felt when your crush was with someone else - his past enemy no less; how guilty he felt that he had been off in France while heaven-only-knows what happened to Alex and turned to his worst enemy for help; how his parents hated him for being gay; how impossible it was to perfectly describe what it felt like to force a smile when all you want to do it crawl in a hole and die.

Instead of saying any of this however, he just said, "how soon do you think Alex will be back on his feet?"

"Pretty quickly, apparently," Alex said blearily from the entrance to the sitting room, where the two of them were still talking. He rubbed the back of his sleeve on his nose, sniffing a little.

"Alex, you shouldn't be up right now!' Thomas scolded.

"'S just a cold," Alex mumbled. "I can handle it."

"Still," Thomas persisted. "You won't get better by working yourself to the bone while you're sick."

"Lexi, he's right," John said. Alex groaned, going a bit flat from his stuffed nose.

"Fine, I'll go back to bed if it'll make you happy," he said, turning to go back into their bed.

"Alex, you're bleeding!" John said, rushing over to where Alex stood. He couldn't take his eyes off the small red patch on his white, cotton shirt.

"Wha' you mean?" Alex slurred. Then his eyes grew wide and his face lost it's color as he followed his friend's worried gaze.

"I- it's nothing!" he tried, putting his arms up weakly.

"But you're bleeding!" John argued.

"It's an old wound," Alex pleaded, brown eyes filled with terror. "Seriously, it's fine!"

"At least let me make sure it's not okay, if nothing else then to help me assure myself that you're fine!"

"No, John, it's fine, it's nothing, honest!" Alex turned his gaze to Thomas, big eyes begging for help.

"It's fine, I check last night before we went to sleep. He probably just broke it open - you know how you can break wounds open from movement. He probably did it just now when he got up," Thomas tried.

"If it just broke open then it must be bleeding really badly," John worried. "Please, just let me see it."

Alex sighed, knowing that John wouldn't stop fussing until he knew that he was okay. In his already exhausted state, he simply wasn't fit to protest much longer. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle, and while he might normally fight until the bitter end, he just couldn't keep it up.

"Alex, are you sure?" Thomas asked as Alex tiredly began to pull of his shirt. He didn't reply, but rather paused for a millisecond and continued. John gasped, eyes going wide as Alex straightened up. Even just on the front he could see scars snaking their way to the front of Alex's shoulders and torso.

"Who did this?" he whispered, feeling his knees go weak. Alex swayed on his feet in exhaustion, Thomas coming up behind him so he could lean against him. He let his head loll onto Thomas' chest before answering.

"You wanted to see it, so here you go," he said. He hesitated, already feeling horribly exposed, then did a half-turn so that John could see his back. He cringed at John's silence.

"See? It's nothing," he mumbled. He flinched as a cold finger lightly traced a scar that ran across most of his back.

"These aren't nothing," John whispered. "Alex, these probably need medical-"

"We've already had it taken care of, don't worry," Alex said, pressing his back into Thomas once more, folding his arms tightly as he was starting to shiver without his shirt. He leaned into the warmth that Thomas' arms around him provided.

"Alex, who would do this to you?" John whispered, looking broken.

"He's already been locked away," Alex murmured, averting his gaze from John's guilt-filled eyes.

"Is this what happened?" John asked Thomas. "Is this what brought you together? What broke you two?"

"You told him?" Alex asked, voice rising in pitch and pulling out of Thomas' embrace. He forgot about his shivering for the moment, unfolding his arms in shock and fury. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone! You promised!"

"I didn't tell him exactly what happened, just explained that it brought us together-"

Alex's eyes filled with tears and he backed into the wall. "You promised, said it was all about consent and whether I was ready!"

"All I said was that it was terrible and that it hurt both of us-" Thomas tried, tears springing to his eyes. "Alex please, I didn't tell him, you know I'd never hurt you- betray you like this."

"He really didn't tell me anything," John pleaded, seeing that Alex was starting to hyperventilate.

Alex sniffed and wiped tears from his eyes angrily. "Course he didn't, he just spilled on everything else. Kept out the specifics."

"No, please, Alex," Thomas pleaded.

"Who else did you tell, huh? Laf? Herc? _Jemmy?"_ Alex snarled.

"Alex, please," Thomas cried, not caring about the tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Did you ever even love me? Did you lie about that too?" Alex spat. He stooped down and grabbed his shirt, laying on the floor. He pulled it on roughly, and stormed out, exhaustion briefly forgotten.

He passed Hercules who was sitting up on the couch, bleary-eyed but having heard everything, without a doubt.

"Alex, what's going on?" he asked, concern filling his eyes. "I heard you three fighting."

"I'm _fine,"_ Alex snapped, tears betraying him. Betrayal was consuming him, leaving no room for air.

"Hey, Lexi, what's wrong?" Hercules asked softly.

"Thomas betrayed me," he sobbed into Hercules' chest. Arms were wrapped around him, and for a millisecond he thought that he might be in Thomas' embrace once more, and he'd tell him that everything was fine and that he didn't really betray him.

Then he remembered that this was Hercules, which made him hurt even more.

"Shh, it's okay," Hercules said quietly. That made Alex remember those countless nights where Thomas would curl up with him and tell him that everything was fine until he was convinced that everything was. Alex sobbed harder, clutching Hercules' shirt.

His tears were hot and sticky and his throat seemed ruined from how much is hurt. His headache was pounding upon him full-force and suddenly Alex was so tired all he could do was slump into Hercules' arms, knowing that his friend could easily support him.

"Hey, come on, let's go back to your room," Hercules suggested. Alex knew it wasn't his fault, but that hurt too. He shook his head a mumbled hoarsely, "spare room."

"Okay, but I might need you to guide me," Hercules confessed.

"One of the rooms at the top of the stairs," Alex sniffled. While on the way there, he couldn't help but to glance down the hallway. He could see that Thomas was on their bed, fingers threaded through his hair. His shoulders were shaking. Everything about him screamed defeat.

Alex sniffed again and turned back to the stairs, dragging his feet up the stairs tiredly.

"Is this room okay?" he's asked. Alex nods his head and is briefly picked up -

" _I'm going to move you to our bed, mkay?" Thomas asked. Alex responded by snuggling further into Thomas' arms, causing him to chuckle a little. He changed his grip a bit then lifted Alex, causing the smaller man to scrabble at Thomas' shoulders, clinging on tightly, eyes shooting open._

" _Thomas!" he squeaked. "Don't drop me!"_

" _I'd never drop you," Thomas said, smiling._

\- before being set down on the bed. Covers are pulled over him and Hercules asks, "do you want to talk 'bout it?"

Alex shook his head, eyes drooping down tiredly. After a moment though he mumbled, "Thomas told John about what happened when I told him no. He said he'd never tell anyone but he did."

"I'm sure he didn't," Hercules said.

"But he did, jus' left out the specifics," Alex sniffed.

"Better than everything, am I right?" Hercules said, attempting something like a joke. Alex couldn't muster the energy to force a smile, but nodded.

"John confronted me about a little spot of blood on my shirt and insisted that he see it. I showed him and he asked Thomas if that was what happened," Alex mumbled after a moment.

"Then it sounds like all he knew was that something happened, which is what most everyone knows," Hercules said, raking his head through Alex's long hair.

"Did Thomas tell everyone?" Alex asked, sounding small.

"No, but it's easy enough to guess. From what I understand, you miss nearly two months of work then Washington rushes to your aid with Jefferson. It's fairly easy to come to the conclusion that something was wrong," Hercules reasoned.

"Was it really that obvious?"

"Sorta."

Then, after a moment, "do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Not really," Alex admitted tiredly. "But if I forget this conversation, remind me, kay?"

"Promise," Hercules said, smiling when he realized that Alex was already asleep.

He walked quietly downstairs, guessing that Thomas might be in his room - or rather, office, Hercules supposed.

He found him a mess, hair even more frizzy and messy that usual. When he looked up, his eyes were red and guilt-ridden.

"I'm the worst boyfriend ever," he sobbed.

"I talked to Alex," he said. Thomas winced, wondering if he'd condemn him too, or scream abuse at him. He deserved it, he thought.

"I explained things a bit better, I think," Hercules said. "But I know that Alex asked me to not let him forget that you only told John that something happened while we were gone."

Thomas looked up, hope shining faintly in his eyes. He clutched his hands together and pleaded, "I didn't think that telling John that what happened was bad would destroy him like this. I thought he just didn't want people to know the specifics.

"And here I thought things were starting to look up." Thomas finished with a strangled sob, pressing his face into his hands.

"I thought he was finally starting to do better with things, and we were in a good place, honest. I didn't think that this would hurt him so bad. If I had known I'd have never even opened my mouth, not even to ask John if he wanted to talk about anything again, 'cause-" Thomas hiccuped "-'cause that's how the whole conversation started."

"Hey, it's ok," Hercules crooned, sitting down next to Thomas. He pulled him into a loose hug and Thomas leaned his head on his shoulder. "I think he might forgive you."

"Is he asleep?" Thomas asked in a small voice.

"Even distraught with sadness you put him before yourself," Hercules chuckled. "Ya, he's asleep."

"Good, he needs it," Thomas said quietly.

"I don't doubt it, he looked halfway to death," Hercules joked.

Thomas pulled away from Hercules fearfully. "He didn't look that bad, did he? He isn't dying?"

He looked so small and fragile, like if someone were to so much as breathe on him he'd shatter into a million pieces. Hercules berated himself for being so insensitive and hurried to calm him.

"No, no, I was just saying he looked tired," Hercules soothed, pulling Thomas back into his arms. He let Thomas lay there for a while, let him cry and confess to nearly everything he'd ever done wrong, from fighting with Alex at meetings to breaking a vase at the age of seven. All the while he kept him hugged close, rubbing circles into his back.

"I should've been the one to comfort him when we went- there, and yet he was the one who was calming me down, even as I knew he was panicking. Now look how I've returned his love."

"Shh, it's ok, you didn't mean to hurt him," Hercules breathed.

"I shouldn't have done it anyways," Thomas protested weakly.

"Everyone knew that something bad happened," Hercules tried, knowing that it had worked for Alex. "John would've found out sooner or later, and better from his friends than from a stranger on the street."

Deep down, Thomas knew Hercules was right.

"What have I ever done to deserve anything even close to this?" Thomas sniffed, letting out a few more stray tears.

"Hey, do you know where John is?" Hercules asked after a few moments. "I want to make sure he's okay too."

"He might be on the couch," Thomas mumbled. "I don't really know. Or he might be in his spare room."

"I'll go find him. If you need me, just come find me, mkay?" he asks. Thomas nods and Hercules gets up, trusting Thomas to come to him for help.

He found John in his room and sat down beside him.

"I shouldn't've pressured him ta show me," John said despondently without prompting, Southern accent showing through.

"It's ok, you were worried," Hercules soothed. After calming down both Alex and Thomas, he was pretty sure he knew what to do to make John feel better.

"You know that he doesn't blame you, right? Neither of them do," Hercules assured him. "Alex only mentioned you when he said that Thomas told you that something happened while we were gone."

"I should'a been here fer him when that happened," John said, sniffing.

"No one could've predicted that this would happen," Hercules soothed. "No one could've said what would happen over those two months, or that this would happen. No one."

John let himself lay with his head on Hercules' lap and he began playing with his hair, freeing it of knots. He knew that John liked that, and he knew he'd made the right decision when he leaned into his touch.

"The worst thing is that I almost wanted them to fight," John admitted quietly. "I love Alex - you know this - and I wanted him for myself. And even though I kept trying to convince myself that I was happy for them, that I was glad that they had found each other and that they were so happy but I was so jealous, and I wanted that for myself."

"You're not a bad person for wanting that for yourself," Hercules crooned. "Even if you did want this to happen with all your heart, you feel bad, right?"

John nodded, unsure of where this was going.

"There you go. You didn't want this, not really. The good in you drowns out your bad," Hercules reasoned. "It's like that yin-yang thing, good in evil and evil in good."

"When did you get so good at this? Can't you just let me wallow in my misery?" John asked, cracking a small, tentative smile.

"Never," Hercules teased, booping John's nose. He feebly swatted at Hercules before sitting up.

"Ok, you've fixed me," John said, letting out a small smile.

"No, I didn't fix you. I just showed you how to fix yourself," Hercules said, smiling.

"Dammit, when did you get so damn smart?" John whined.

"Ever since I needed to help my buds," Hercules said, smiling softly.

* * *

Alex awoke nearly six hours later, feeling like shit. His head hurt from crying and his throat seemed to have been ripped to shreds by a thousand needles. His nose was so stuffed he had to breathe through his mouth. His body ached and his face felt crusty from the tears that had dried there.

Shit indeed.

Not only that, but he'd treated Thomas and John like shit. Personally, Alex felt that that was worse.

He forced himself to get up and stumbled outside, leaning heavily on the wall for balance for the first few meters he spent upright. He soon grew used to standing however, and moved on to the stairs, determined to apologize for his behavior.

He found Thomas in the first place he looked, in their bed. He hoped that Thomas would understand.

"Thomas, wake up," he called softly, shaking him gently. "I need to talk to you."

Alex cringed. Possibly not the best way to start an apology.

"What is it Alex?" Thomas murmured, not even opening his eyes. Then he shot upright, startling him. An incredulous look crossed his face. " _Alex?"_

"I- I wanted to say that I was sorry. I know I treated you really badly 'n that I was an asshole 'n everything, but I really want you to know that I feel terribly and wanted to ask for your forgiveness," Alex blurted, each word feelings like knives tearing themselves from his throat, voice strained.

"Alex, I-"

"And I understand if you hate me 'n that if you want me to go, because I shouldn't'a treated you like that, but I really want you to know that I didn't mean anything that I said," Alex continued.

"Alex-"

"And if you never wanna see me again, that's fine, I'll go get my stuff, I just wanted to let you know that I felt terrible and that I know I fucked up bad," Alex rambled.

"Alex!" Thomas interrupted. Alex looked at him, face full of exhaustion and guilt. "Honey, I never hated you. The only reason I didn't go storming up there to apologize was 'cause Herc said you were 'sleep, and I knew you needed that bad. You still do."

Alex found that he had no choice but to agree as he was literally swaying on his feet, despite sleeping for six hours. Stress over this whole situation was weighing down on him, sapping him of any energy he might've had otherwise.

"C'm'ere," Thomas said, opening his arms. Alex nearly fell into them and allowed himself to go limp as he was adjusted to be more comfortable. He quickly fell asleep once more, a small smile of hope alight on his face. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Thomas could get through anything.

* * *

When Alex next awoke he was pleased to find that he felt marginally better and was even more pleased to find that Thomas' arms were still wrapped around him. He sniffed a bit to attempt to clear his nose, was only partially successful and accepted that he was still stuck with breathing through his mouth.

At least he was in Thomas' arms.

* * *

"What'd you do, mon ami?" Lafayette asked. _(My friend)_

"Talked, but let them talk mostly," Hercules said, taking a small drink of his water. Everyone was asleep but them, and the house seemed unnaturally quiet after the chaos of the morning. "It's all about letting them get everything off their chest, let them know that some cares, that someone understands."

"How are you so good at it though?" Lafayette persisted.

"I guess it comes down to how you talk and treat them," Hercules mused. "I wouldn't have been able to help them if I had been cold or demanding. But they'd have been able to get through it on their own, I can tell. They're stubborn, yes, but also eternally faithful and loyal."

"They're so lucky, you know?" Lafayette said. "Not many people get that good of a relationship."

"I think that anyone can have that as long as there's something there and both sides have it and they're willing to sacrifice anything for the other. Both sides have to follow through though," Hercules said. He took a deep breath then said, "I know I'd be willing to do that for you."

Lafayette inhaled sharply, looking up in surprise. Then, just as Hercules was starting to regret coming clean, a smile broke out across his face.

"Oui, oui, oui, _oui, oui, oui!"_ he cried, nodding his head violently. _(Yes, yes, yes,_ yes, yes, yes!) " _Oui, mon cher!"_ (Yes, my dear!)

Hercules might've teased Lafayette had he not been so giddy.

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Thomas asked nervously. His heart was fluttering like a caged bird, trying to escape - and the crazy thing was, it wasn't even his secret at all.

"I need to come clean to them, so they don't worry like John did," Alex declared firmly, looking so much more confident than Thomas felt.

Just that morning had been the first anyone had allowed Alex to leave his bed, and it had also been the time when Lafayette and Hercules came out to everyone.

"I knew it!" John had shouted joyously, pumping his first into the air. Thomas had congratulated them and Alex had stood by his side, grinning like an idiot.

Everyone pretty much knew that he and Alex were a thing, but Thomas made it official by announcing it right after everyone had quieted down a bit, which had caused them to go off again, tittering and giggling. John took Alex aside.

"Alex, I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I'm happy for you," John had said, brushing a tear away.

"What's wrong?" Alex had asked.

"I just-" John had broken off, biting his lip. "It's nothing."

"I won't get mad, I promise," Alex had said.

"I- I love you, Alexander Hamilton," John had whispered, looking down at the ground. "But I want you to know that I'm still happy for you - Thomas is so good to you, and you deserve someone like him."

"John, I-" Alex had broken off, not wanting to hurt his best friend. "I can't say that I love you romantically, but you'll always be my very best friend, promise."

And Alex had meant that. He still did.

John had smiled sadly and hugged him fiercely, holding him as tight as he could.

"What was that all about?" Thomas had asked.

"Not my story to tell," Alex had said with a sort of bitter-sweet smile.

Now there was just one more thing to tell, one more secret that needed to be unveiled. That secret was Alex's past, and his story to tell.

He had waited until everyone was done eating, then grabbed Thomas' hand under the table for support.

"Alright everybody, there's one last important thing I have to say," Alex had started. Thomas squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Perhaps the other sensed the seriousness of what Alex was about to say, or perhaps John had warned them that something like this might happen, but no one said a thing, no one teased him about only having _one_ last thing to say.

And so he spilled it all out. Everything. Every memory that mattered within those two and a half months, from the moment he walked into the cabinet meeting to the fight that Hercules had helped solve. They all sat and listened, not interrupting once. That might be what made it doable: they just listened.

They didn't react, didn't scream or rage, didn't cry or sob, didn't do so much as utter a single word. They clenched hands, yes, sometimes tightly enough that knuckles turned white or, in Hercules' and Lafayette's case, that the other person winced.

"That's what I've been hiding, what you've been missing. I should've told you sooner, I know, but there it is," Alex finished. He forced himself to not squirm at everyone's silence, to sit still.

"Alex, I- I'm not going to say you should've told us, because you had to be ready, and that's not what you need to hear," Hercules said, the first to break the silence. "I don't think you need to hear anything at all, except for maybe this-" Hercules reached across the table and grabbed the hand that Thomas wasn't still holding.

"We'll always be here for you, no matter what."

* * *

 **That was written in basically one sitting (excusing the fact that I got up one for another water bottle and a couple cookies once). I also wrote that in the same day that I wrote the last chapter, but my editing and revising was cut short by my computer being taken away for the night 'because you have to go to sleep.'**

 **Anyways, here's the continued author's note I promised, though I recommend not skipping this.**

 **In this chapter I highlighted two phrases that, honestly, I am very proud to have written. The first is, 'consent is key.' This one isn't clever or inspiring in the sense of the second one, but it is important to me.**

 **If you're in a situation, whether you're in an uncomfortable conversation or your partner is asking if you want to do _it,_ consent is key. You shouldn't have to be put into a position where you have to do something you don't want to, whether is confessing that yes, you had a nightmare or being forced to do _it_ when when even just the thought of _it_ makes your insides squirm.**

 **(I kept that one bit pretty vague, so if you don't know what _it_ is, enjoy your innocence while it lasts XD)**

 **The second line that I highlighted might very well be the best thing I've ever written, in my opinion. 'No, I didn't fix you. I just showed you how to fix yourself.' It's rather like that one quote that goes something like, 'we are all cracked, that's how the light gets in.' I forget who said it.**

 **Anyways, I just really like this one. It makes me happy.**

 **So there's my little slightly emotional, sort-of pep-talk for the day. XD**

 **Also side note: I made Alex get sick because I have a minor cold (and also because I thought it would be cuter that way, because he's fighting when bone-tired. I don't know, I have a weird sense of cute), but I probably got some of the symptoms wrong anyways. Sorry.**

 **I'll get another chapter up soon, and it will have fatherly Washington and Madison reacting to Jamilton! *cheering* And please, keep the ideas coming! If I can, I'll put them into the next chapter or, if they're big enough, I'll give them their own chapter. Anyways, this has been a really long author's note, so bye!**

 **-Ranger Corpses**


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